Death on the Motorway
C.R. Redd, North Somerset, England
They died on the motorway. In no way
Connected, these strangers connected
For one last time. An awful death, not
Because of the shrieking inferno
Nor their choking in the acrid blackness
That was everywhere, and overcame them.
I cannot imagine those, so they do not
Affect me. And yet when I heard I cried
Because they died nowhere, not even
Half-way home. These bodies were in
Transit, travelling, leaving, going.
I do not want to die on the motorway
In the middle of nowhere, the grey road.
I want to die stationary, where I seem
Permanent to the ground.